


Promise Full Of Sugar

by hellhoundsprey



Series: fullofsugar!verse [11]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Bottom Jared, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Genderfluid Jared, Happy Ending, Lolita Jared, M/M, Secret Relationship, Teacher Jensen, Teenage Drama, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 13:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12532848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: Jared is about to graduate. Decisions have to be made, and neither of them seems ready for that.





	Promise Full Of Sugar

Summer closes in, but Jared clings to Christmas sweaters.

To cold outside and warm inside, to questions about presents instead of The Future.

Jensen must feel it too. But he doesn't say a word—maybe to keep pressure off Jared.

Or, to prolong the inevitable.

Jared feels too sick to eat, most of these days.

~

Nate passes the ball too hard—Jared stumbles and comes back online: burning palms, sweat on his lip.

He leaps for a slam-dunk, but Jeff blocks him in the last second. Jared gets a pat on his shoulder nevertheless.

“Tackle me back next time!” Jeff laughs. “I'm not gonna break, ya know!”

Jared snorts and tosses the ball to Nate.

“Sure. Okay.”

Nathan is eyeing Jared as he dribbles in almost slow motion. It's unusual, seeing him with his hair tied up. Distracting.

Jeff steps aside to grab his water bottle. The air over the asphalt is glimmering.

“Hey.”

“What?”

Jared rubs the sweat out of his eyes. “How'd you know. What you wanted to do, I mean.”

“After school?”

Jared nods, and his shoulders slump.

“Ah.” Jeff smirks over at them. “So this is what this is about.”

“Not really.” (Jared would rather birth a watermelon than step a foot into these poison waters.) “But I was—wondering.”

There's something like...pity in Jeff's expression. Right now.

Great.

“Freaking out yet?”

“Basically pissing himself.”

“Shut up.”

Everybody laughs, except for Jared.

Jeff says, “Perfectly normal,” and gestures for the ball. “Y'talked to our folks about it yet?”

Again, Jared shakes his head.

Jeff retrieves the ball. He tosses it over their heads and—narrowly misses the basket. He laughs and jogs to pick it back up.

“Well. I mean I stayed here 'cause of Kris. I thought you knew that?”

“...Seriously?”

Jeff shrugs. “Hell,” he says, “I was in love.”

“But you guys broke up, like. A month after you started school.”

“True, true.” Jeff sniffs, dribbles, closes in on the basket once more. “It's not that bad. I don't have to pay rent, living at home. Can't complain.”

He sinks it, this time.

Jared feels like punching something. Like running, real far.

“But...”

“It worked _out_ , Jay, gimme a break,” grin-groans Jeff, and tosses him the ball.

~

Jensen spends his birthday weekend at home, with his friends and family. Jared gets the Sunday night; we gotta get up early tomorrow, not much longer than ten, alright?

The rings, at the bottom of Jared's backpack, could as well be in the middle of the ocean.

He can't. He can't.

Hidden in Jensen's neck, Jared holds on—to this moment, how utterly complete it is.

No matter how often they see each other, it's never enough.

Jensen kisses him like a Welcome Home ad even though Jared is the darkest spot on his ever-white vest. Spreads his legs and hefts him up like a doll, and doesn't mind the continuous clinging, or the gasping, or the slurring. Kitten whines, ground out, always-open chest beating itself to Hell.

Never ever would Jared Tristan have thought that Mr. Ackles could and would love him like Jensen Ross does. Dreamed, maybe, but this is only a panicked, second-thoughts gift: a not-even-expensive pair of boots that looks pretty much the same as all the others he already owns, and Jensen does say a genuine Thank You.

He _will_ wear them for as long as a Texan summer will let him, but the whispered promise itself is enough for kitten to go weak-kneed.

~

Hank told him he cries, sometimes. Because Jack, because his baby is growing up and it's so weird, Jensen, you don't know what it's like.

Jensen doesn't talk about crying. First of all because it wouldn't change a thing. And then because if anyone could change anything about the reasons for his crying, that would have to be himself. And—that won't happen.

A blind man with no talent in empathy whatsoever can tell Jared is struggling.

This is where it becomes apparent (and undeniable) that Jensen is, in fact, dating a high school student.

Jensen is at a loss for—everything.

It's a pain in the ass by itself to go through decisions with a grown-up partner. When both of you are aware of favors and risks and. All the important realities.

Every step seems too much. Every hint he might give the kid—unthinkable. Which might be useless, in the end. Since Jensen already did him in. Is aware, that, despite all kisses and happiness: he took something, altered something, that will define Jared's life forever.

If Jared ends up leading a happy life, he'll say: this is on you, Ackles.

If Jared ends up overdosing after the third rehab—well.

(Can't even think it.)

Of course—God, of course Jensen _wants_.

Of course he has ideas, and most (plenty) of them are actually beneficial to the kid. Or, at least seem to be from a rational, educational perspective. (Which Jensen's insides are everything but.)

No matter how hard he tries to tire Jared out, he sleeps restlessly, if at all. Jensen is always awake to see it.

~

It's almost June. Jared grew another foot worth, lost another five pounds along the way.

Jensen's suicidal brain thinks about getting a bigger car. So he can still fit his baby in the front seat, upright.

Jared says everything itches. Jensen does his best to scratch.

Friends gladly let him borrow, lend—stay at the beach house, yes, sure, you gonna bring anyone? No?

Jared gets a tan even before the new swimsuit, and a minor meltdown with it. It just won't fit. It looks so expensive—I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

“You know what—I like you best like this, anyway.”

Smooth tongue Ackles, teary-giggling kitten, bare like God intended (just probably not for Jensen). It's a heaven-sented private beach.

Jensen always burns before he tans. Cancer isn't big in his family.

They talk about nothing. Like there is a disease (and who says there isn't?). Like never addressing it equals it will never become real.

The master bedroom is settled into the attic. They can see the ocean from here. Jensen, who at night two doesn't pretend to be asleep anymore, stares at the wall instead. Has Jared dozing on his arm and doesn't have the heart to move.

There is no clock in this room, and his wristwatch on the nightstand is too far away to see. Could be three but probably is eleven. They didn't draw the curtains close. It's bright with moonlight, outside.

“...Hey.”

Jensen swallows. Brushes his knuckles most softly across that chin.

“I know you're up.”

He says they've gotta talk, baby, and doesn't seem to be able to stop from then on. Has Jared close, lets him feel the unsure kicks of his heart; feels Jared's pounding all the way through that broad bird back.

Jensen has no clue what he is doing—too preoccupied with being sensible, and careful. Feels like he didn't say anything, in the end. Said how he only wants the best for Jared, probably fifty times. They've scooted closer together, and Jensen just now notices that. Presses his nose into that saltwater hair and wishes to take all the words right back.

Jared shifts some before he speaks. Sounds sleep-deprived and well-loved, mature, and picks his words as carefully as (but slower than) Jensen.

“Thing is,” he says, “I have no clue. What I want. Except for—well. Staying with you.”

But, he says, he knows they can't be together here. Where everybody knows them. Where Jared is an ex high schooler and Jensen is a high school teacher.

Jen nods into the pillow (and Jared's skull). “Yeah. We'd have to move cities.”

“Yeah, you'd lose your job.” Helpless laugh from Jay.

“I mean, as a teacher, I could work anywhere. You know that, right?”

Silence from Jay.

Jensen rubs that bare shoulder. Feels light-headed with all those knots having come undone so sudden, so numerously, and he has to force himself to stay down, stay grounded, for the both of them.

Ensures, “That's not a decision to make in a rush, obviously. I mean, it's not like I...know what to do. Or have any idea of what I'm doing. Uh, lemme start again...”

He takes both of Jared's hands. Keeps them between his palms.

“I want you to be happy. That's all that matters.”

~

It's most definitely risky to pop Aspirin like Tic Tacs. But between headaches and growing pains, Jared has to remain functional somehow.

Every day's highlight is Nathan, bringing leftovers from back at Kim's. Spicy, fruity dishes that make you sweat a lot and cry a little. They share them out on the patio, books and notes shoved aside for only as long as necessary.

Nathan says Kim is doing fine. Jared hasn't seen the guy in a while now. Nate had invited Jared over the other day, but Jared had declined. So that's that.

Nathan doesn't seem angry, or disappointed. It was all just getting too...weird, between them. Maybe Nate thinks as well that they're better off the way they are now: so very platonic.

Another highlight (just because they get away from studying) is the nightly supply run—energy drinks, junk food (they're both into salty, crispy).

Jared stacks five cans (for himself) on his arms. Feels like he might fall asleep right here, isle seven, just black out nice and quiet. They pass the produce section and Jared's stomach rumbles. Which is incredibly funny to him since it might be a Pavlovian reflex to Jensen practically force-feeding him vegetables nowadays. And Jared keeps smiling through his brain's unnecessary reminder about how they haven't seen each other in days.

Nathan grabs their preferred brand of chips and gets lost on what else to pick. Jared seizes the opportunity to lean onto his shoulder for support, to close his eyes for just a second here. Nate is too zoned out himself to complain.

One of the cans in Jared's arms slips as he slips, too, and rolls off—half-exploding and spewing carbonated death all over the no-longer-spotless linoleum floor.

“Oh—shit!”

Nathan laughs his ass off while Jared duck-sprints after the escapee, almost-slips in the mess and then collides with a shopping cart, head-first. The shock gets him awake, two hundred percent. Has him rushing upright, stammer a quick apology, and.

He's in his glasses, stupid sweatpants, sandals. Baseball cap. Goes from shock to annoyed to pale to gray when he recognizes the grimy kid in front of him.

Barks, “What?” and then, “Oh,” and again, “ _Oh_ ,” and Jared is going to cry.

It's Jensen. Jensen's cart. Jensen grocery shopping at eight freaking twenty PM.

Nathan curls his hand over Jared's shoulder from behind, turns him around. “Hey, you alright?”

“I—I was—” Fuck, don't cry, don't cry—

“Hey, you okay there?” and that's Jensen, and Jared's head pounds something fierce and he can't even check his forehead for damage because he's still juggling all that canned caffeine. Feels the busted one continuously spilling over his hands, his feet.

Jared feels his chin wobbling. “M-mister—Mr. Ackles.”

Jensen stares at him like a screamed Please Don't.

Nathan frowns between them and Jared panics utterly, rushes, “He's, he's used to—he's teaching at our school, I. We used to—sorry. Sorry for, running and, and. The mess. Sorry, sir.”

Jensen says that it's fine, and Jared is highly aware of his too-big too-loose tee, basketball shorts.

Jensen is buying beer, and lasagna. Steak and tomatoes, and Jared's favorite ice cream.

~

Jensen's car is like a gateway to another dimension. One without troubles, and anxiety, and doubts. Where there's just them, and the night, and nothing else.

Jared tried hard on the eyeliner. Put on stockings and lace bra even though he is sweating like a pig.

The AC in Jensen's car is flawlessly making his nipples show, and Jensen's hand edging between his legs is a burning mark.

Jensen overcomes him like rain. Like an ocean. Makes Jared's exhausted eyes and muscles and soul flutter, makes him small so so easily.

Something in Jared tries to breathe right, but he's too overwhelmed in general to function beyond lying on his back and maybe muffling his voice just a little.

Jensen always parks them a few miles out of town. Between trees and hills, hiding them out in the open.

Jared's legs are getting too long to close the car door behind Jensen.

Jensen sweeps him up and away, like this. Fucks him so thorough Jay's crying it's so freeing, so close.

Coming down under the stars, Jared tastes both of their sweat. Has his mister cradled against his chest, and said mister might be dozing off with his pants still caught around his ankles which are hanging out of the car, into the grass.

Jared, half-dreaming, slurs, “I want this. You. Forever.”

“Run away with me.”

Jay smiles, half-gone. “...What?”

“We can just leave. After you've finished school. Let's just leave. I mean, if you want that? I mean, _I_ want that.”

“Y'don't—Jensen!”

He rushes up, neck craned so he can catch Jensen's stoic-tired face.

Jared Tristan stutters for breath. “What about your job? The house?”

“It don't matter.” Delirious, love-sick. There's glitter in Jensen's night-dark eyes, and he's cupping Jay's face now. “All good about this place, ever, was you. Wherever you wanna go, lemme take you there. Please.”

(Jared's throat hurts.)

“Do...do you mean it?”

Jensen kisses him.

~

The rings shine, held up against the ceiling light.

Jared types and deletes numerous texts.

~

They've never had that many dad-son things. Jared put up with it around the time he put up with preferring pink over blue, glitter over cameo. Dad isn't—scared, or weirded out. He's just...Dad.

“What about this one?”

Jared hums, shrugs his shoulders.

Dad frowns at the jeep. “Maybe a lil' big, huh.”

Jared hasn't gotten his permit yet (he's at it, shut up) but Dad insists on a big present for his second-born.

Going back home to the AC is tempting, but returning to his studies—not so much.

They get some lemonade while Dad blabbers—about traveling, now. How about Europe, Jare, that will look good on your résumé?

What does one tell their father, in a situation like this?

It's too hot to think. Ice cubes melt too fast for Jared to chew on them right.

He's so tired. About everything. And everyone. About lying, and being confused, and being so goddamn powerless. About being angry, too.

“Actually,” says Jared, and it sounds weird to him, tight, like his throat doesn't want to let the words out, “I wanna move in with my boyfriend.”

That gets him...a whole lot of nothing.

Jared's mouth feels numb around the straw.

“He's a good guy, y'know. I think we can make it work. But...”

His sigh ripples through all the tangled space inside of him. Now, he thinks, this is real.

“I'm—I just. Everything freaks me the hell out.”

Jared throws a timid look at his dad, just to be met with a face full of utter astonishment.

They stop. And for a moment, Jared expects the cup in Dad's hand to slide out, crash on the ground. But Dad just looks at him, really _looks_ at him, and Jared is hit by how much space he had put between himself and—everyone.

The world isn't quite turning until Dad takes a step forward and puts his hand on Jared's shoulder. Jared feels like dropping _his_ drink now that Dad pulls him under his arm, and continues walking with him.

Dad won't talk until they're back by the car. But he isn't angry. He really isn't.

~

Since Nate finally got his bike, they don't walk anywhere anymore. Very convenient, even though it doesn't motivate Jared to finish his license.

Jared clings tight; they're going fast. Feels dizzy with speed and summer and studying, with not saying the things he'd want and need to say.

Nathan parks them by the river. Shade or not, it's unbearable outside. But an escape is an escape. Jeff gifted them one of his coolers.

It's quiet.

Nathan idly pushes his soda from hand to hand.

It takes a while for him to finally spill: he'll get enlisted. Navy.

He sneaks a smile as he asks, “You think Kim's gonna kill me if I don't tell him until I leave?”

“Uh.”

“I'm not good at this stuff.”

“Don't you think he deserves to know? You can tell me, apparently.”

“Yes. Yeah. Well, you're different.”

Jared gets his cheek cupped. He leans into it, cannot help it.

Murmurs, “We can still see each other, right?” and when Nate says, “I don't think that's a good idea,” there's no need to explain.

And, yeah, he's probably right.

They're close, but not kissing, again.

“You gotta stay safe. You hear me, Nathan Parker?”

Nate hums his, “Yeah,” and not for the first time, Jared wonders how much different everything could be. (*)

~

It's all happening.

Jared is in-between-finals, drunk at Haley's and (in a sudden burst of Fuck It All) fills out last minute college applications with her. Can't feel much of his face he's so numb-alive, giggling with possibilities and hopes and dreams, all of them, all of a sudden.

Because, shit, why the hell not?

White picket fences and border collie dogs, Jensen in linen pants and tanned, holding the dog's leash in the one hand and Jared's hand in the other.

Clubbing with Marsha (New York, applied there too, blindly—New York) and coming home to a tiny studio apartment, Jensen grumpy in their frameless bed under the only and too-tiny window, and everything is perfect in every way.

~

He didn't plan this right.

Which should be obvious, because he would have felt like puking his heart out one way or the other, sweating over the final exam, even without the weight of The Ring in the pocket of his jeans.

He swears it picks up body heat and multiplies it by a fucking thousand.

He's thumbing at it and probably looks ten times worse already since he's checked in the bathroom mirror.

This is fucking stupid.

Teachers dropping into the lounge eye him concernedly.

Jared kind of doesn't want him to come.

He jolts up and outside when the bell rings, and every classroom empties itself into the hall.

~

Everyone is acting like the biggest family.

Jared is three drinks in and has never hated his classmates more than right the fuck now.

Glares at them, across the room. Why did they even agree to join? Haley and Brock can see each other every day anyway.

It was surprising to be let in at all. Kelly had even patted Nate's back and cheered. Motherfucker.

It's when Jason and his buddies come up to them, obviously loaded up with more than just a few beers, and start smiling and talking about how they all finally did it now, how cool is it to be free huh guys, that Jared cannot stay seated for another moment.

Steps broad between the bullies and his friends—taller than anyone in the house except maybe Brad—and squares his shoulders.

“School might be over,” he growls, “but you guys're always gonna be scum.”

~

Jared Tristan, head of the debate club, at least conceals his limp on his way to the podium. (Didn't cover up the shiner, just because.) Puts his hand on the wooden surface, and looks straight ahead at the crowd.

There's his family, and Jensen, and everyone's eyes are on Jared.

So, this is it. Tonight, they'll be free. Nothing will be the same.

He talks about that. About what school made of all of them, about futures and hopes and important things that all sound pretty.

Jared watches Mom and Dad rubbing tears out of their eyes, and Jensen, just. Watching.

Jared gets a standing ovation. Even from Jason's parents. He smiles wide, shows off teeth nobody got to bash in (no matter how hard they tried).

After receiving their diplomas, everyone is dismissed. Jared jogs to his folks and is welcomed with the warmest and tightest of hugs. Meggy got him a bouquet of soft pink roses.

It's loud and crowded in the gym, and Jared doesn't notice the hand on his back, at first. Is mid-sentence when he's pushed, harder now, and ready to cuss in front of his baby sister when he turns around to tell the asshole to quit it.

Faces Jensen, who pulls him in for a full-on hug, in front of everyone, and Jared is too shocked to stop his arms from curling and clinging around Jensen's back, crushes some of the flowers.

“I'm so proud of you,” hears Jared, whispered so low it's only for him.

Mr. Ackles says everything is gonna work out, and Jared believes that, now.

~

Jensen's got two take-away cups of coffee, and Jay's got a suitcase and three backpacks.

Jensen parked almost right in front of the house and Jared doesn't look back once they take off.

It's six thirty AM, and Jared isn't crying.

~

“But _look_ at him.”

“I said no.”

“But—”

“No cats,” bellows Jen, and Jared pouts in defeat. For now.

Jensen is frowning, bent over the table, circling job-ads. Like the internet still hasn't been invented.

Jared should get back to repairing the air con but then again Jen's gorgeous when soaked.

Jay sprawls wider, knocking stray lipglosses and brushes out of the way. Blinks through decidedly not-dusty air (because Jensen's a truly cleanly darling), curls his naked toes so he can scratch his own calf.

“You're a heartless old man.”

“We can't afford another mouth. You're enough work as it is.”

“I could share with him.”

“Cats can't survive on Red Bull and cheese poppers, Jared Tristan.”

Jay grins, just like Jensen. He can't exactly argue with that.

~

Jared gets down on one knee at Christmas.

Jensen says yes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (*) = There will be a spin-off/AU to this verse where we will explore one (1) of said different ways of how things could have gone. It is however not placed within canon of the verse, so, yes: **the FOS!verse is now completed.**
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with this story, these two idiots, and me. Y'all were incredibly supportive of the series, and it was always a joy to bring the story forward. Now, after 1 1/2 years and 60+ k of words in 11 chapters, it has come to an end.
> 
> I tried to give them justice, but endings are always hard. If you're familiar with my writing, you know I'm a sucker for open endings. This time it's not much different, even though it is (one of) the best possible settings I left any pair in. Feel free to imagine where they ended up moving to, what Jared is doing and where he's gonna go career-wise.
> 
> My job here is done. It's always weird, letting a story and its characters go. I am very positive that people will demand "more" (as they always do), but please understand that I have told everything about this verse that I wanted to tell. **If, however, you want/have/crave to add to it, may it be writing or in any other form, you are welcome to do so. Link to your work in the comments and I WILL check it out, probably cry because it's amazing, and adore you forever.**
> 
> The trope FOS is based on is nothing too original/new/groundbreaking—so obviously it was _mind-blowing_ to me how the feedback to this verse in particular was so big; many people kept telling me it inspired them greatly, and if it did/does, I can only be humbled. I am very lucky to have such adorable readers!
> 
> Again, thank you for your time, your comments, your support. Without y'all, this story wouldn't be what it is. I had the sweetest of times. Thank you.


End file.
